


These broken wings

by BoredomBeckons



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Family, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredomBeckons/pseuds/BoredomBeckons
Summary: After taking him in Bruce helps Dick remember how to fly
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	These broken wings

Dick wasn’t sure what reaction Bruce was expecting when he led him into the ballroom.

Maybe he wasn’t expecting any reaction in particular. Just collecting data. Seeing what would happen. That seemed like a Bruce thing to do.

Dick wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting of himself to be honest. He hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t thought he needed to.

The circus was gone. Packed up and left. The flying Grayson’s were no more.

He was just a normal kid now.

He would go to school. Live in a house. Do normal things.

Normal kids did not swing on a trapeze. He may have spent much of his short life on one but he was distinctly aware that it was not something normal kids do. Somewhere in the back of his mind Dick had just accepted that it was something he would never do again. So, he didn’t know what to expect of himself when faced with a full-scale trapeze set up for the first time since that night.

The night when one of the jugglers had climbed up and gently carried him down, his tear-stained face pressed into their vest, his throat raw from screaming. He hadn’t looked back as they left the tent. Hadn’t tried to steal one last glance at the towering frame under which a swarm of paramedics, police and circus performers gathered. Where his parents still lay. He had seen enough.

The months that followed were a whirlwind of policemen, social workers and last goodbyes from the hodgepodge family who no longer had the means to keep him; followed at last by the quiet of the manor that was to be his new home and where he had spent the last five weeks ‘settling in’.

Dick didn’t know what Bruce was expecting. Or what he himself was expecting.

What they got was a scream of grief and terror, Dick's head frantically shaking back and forth as he muttered a tearful stream of “No, no, no, no, no, please, no” as if afraid that the man would bodily force him to climb the ladder right at that moment and make him leap off, down to the floor below.

“I just thought you might like the option of still practicing.” Bruce told him gently, kneeling to his height. “So, you don’t forget.”

“Noooo!” Dick wailed nearly incoherent with panic “I don’t want to. I don’t want to fall!” He didn’t remember running, only acknowledged the dark safe cocoon of his new bed after he burrowed into it. Shoes and all.

He was glad he had left the circus behind. Glad that the other performers couldn’t see him now. And with a pang of regret he prayed that wherever his parent’s souls may be, that they couldn’t see him either. Prayed that they weren’t looking down on him in disappointment.

Their little robin. So afraid of falling now that he didn’t dare to fly.

A solid weight settled onto the mattress beside him causing it to dip, then his guardian’s hand was gently stroking his head and back through the duvet until finally tears subsided and Dick fell into an exhausted sleep. The next morning when he woke the ballroom door was closed.

He rushed past it on his way to breakfast and tried to pretend it wasn’t even there.

…

A week later, things had settled into a comfortable routine at the manor, breakfast, exploring, hanging out with Bruce if he was about, hanging out with Alfred if he wasn’t. Sometimes he would watch TV or play. Sometimes he would try to sneak into the Batcave. Sometimes Bruce would let him.

In the evenings before his patrol, Bruce would put Dick to bed, supervising as he washed his face and brushed his teeth then reading a chapter or two from a story book they had found in the library.

Dick felt pretty lucky. He had been worried at first that his new guardian would be distant and frightening as he had first seemed, but Bruce had been friendly, and warm, and highly generous with the hugs.

So, when the man scooped him up off of the ground as he left the bathroom that night, breath minty fresh, face scrubbed clean, it wasn’t too much of a surprise. Dick laughed, feeling safe and comfortable as he was gently set down on top of the soft cushions of his bed instead of having to climb up as he usually did.

“Now, where were we?” Bruce asked, reaching for the book as if everything was normal, and perhaps it was.

“Toby was going into the cave.”

“Ah yes the cave.”

Time passed. The routine continued.

Teeth. Face. Scoop. Lift. Gently set down in bed. Story time.

Dick barely noticed the first time Bruce let go of his arms just a moment before his back hit the bed. Those two inches of air hardly registering in his mind as they laughed, already discussing the next step in Toby the Travelers adventure.

He barely noticed when two inches became two feet, the soft whoosh followed by a gentle bounce was irrelevant next to their heated argument about whether dinosaurs were better than elephants. (Obviously they weren’t.)

He barely noticed when Bruce first flipped him over into the cushions, too high on adrenaline after their high-speed game of chase throughout the manor.

Days, weeks, months passed and Dick barely noticed as slowly but surely Bruce increased the distance, he’d throw him. Sending his small body soaring through the air into the safe, soft landing of his bed. As he encouraged him to jump and flip and play, often using Bruce himself as a springboard. As he coaxed him into greater and greater feats of daring. Things most normal children were discouraged from doing.

Dick was not a normal child.

Not now. Not ever.

He was jumping on the bed when it happened. Carrying on a conversation about a new carton he had discovered and casually flinging himself through all manner of cartwheels, somersaults and backflips when he landed on a spring at the wrong angle and found himself being flung sideways.

Blue eyes widened in horror as the ground came speeding towards him, blind terror griped his small frame.

Dick barely noticed Bruce move towards him, barely registered the strong hands grabbing his arms, or the sweeping whoosh as the man swung him around, redirecting his momentum into a safe dip and then back up, never letting him hit the floor. He only noticed the strong arms wrapped around him afterwards, secure and solid.

Bruce had caught him.

Dick didn’t know what Bruce was expecting. Or what he himself was expecting in that moment, but he was shoving out of the man’s arms and half way to the ballroom before his conscious mind caught up with him.

Adrenaline from the fall was still pumping through him, his heart racing, and breathing jagged. Dick wasn’t ashamed to say he was still terrified but he had to do this. He had to. Right here. Right now. Or else he never would again.

The bars of the ladder were cold under his fingers as he climbed, up, up, up.

He barely spared a passing glance down when he reached the platform, not allowing himself a moment to hesitate, trusting only in the knowledge that Bruce was down there. That the man had followed him into the room and was down there right now beneath him. Ready to catch him if he fell.

Then Dick was swinging through the air as he had done a thousand times before.

Minutes, hours, years later Dick found himself back in his guardian’s arms, his tear-stained face pressed to the man’s chest but smiling and proud. “I can fly.” He whispered in wonder feeling dazed, like he had only just remembered the sky was blue and grass was green. “I’m a robin and I can fly.”

“Yes, you can.” Bruce whispered back. “Yes, you can.”


End file.
